


The Alchemist and the Wizard

by FairyTailWzard



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Add tags as I think of them, Alchemy, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF oc, Crossover, F/M, Karrin Murphy is a Badass, Magic, POV Original Female Character, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, am I ever going to finish this, either slow burn or swan dive no in between we die like men, probably not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26710315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyTailWzard/pseuds/FairyTailWzard
Summary: "Well hello, Miss Al-che-mist. I don’t believe we’ve met yet, have we?"In which the world of alchemy and Amestris clashes with the world of wizardry and the chaos that is Harry Copperfield Blackstone Dresden.(Harry Dresden x Rory Blackburn)
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Void

**Author's Note:**

> In light of Battlegrounds coming out and my love for both Dresden Files and FMA:B I've decided to revamp this story I wrote years ago and turn it into something that's hopefully cool and fun to read.

" _Well hello, Miss Al-che-mist. I don’t believe we’ve met yet, have we?_ "   
  


Rory Blackburn felt numb, the floor swayed under her feet.

She couldn't feel anything. It felt as if she was everywhere and nowhere all at once as if she was being stretched and compressed at the same time.

She couldn't breathe; a weight in her chest making it hard to focus on anything. It felt as if her lungs were going to pop.

She couldn't see, everything was white, the room spun around her like a demented version of a carnival ride.

  
She felt so disoriented, jumbled, confused. It felt as if she were flying and drowning at the same time. Was this what dying felt like? Was she dying? She didn’t know. She didn’t know if this was real.

Her stomach felt like it was made of lead, weighing her down and smothering her like a thick tar-like blanket. It suffocated her through every pore and atom of her body.

She didn't want to be here.

She wanted to leave, she had to get back home. 

Home.

Where was home?

What was she doing before this?

  
  


" _Oh? How disrespectful and naughty of you to ignore your host!_ "

  
  


Rory shivered at the voice. It echoed in her ears and reverberated in her head and shook her to the bone. 

She couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It sounded as if it came from every crevice and corner of wherever she was.

  
She hated that voice. She loathed it. It made her blood boil. It made her heart twist in fear and anger. It made hornets buzz in her throat and choke any screams that tried to escape.

No.  
  
She couldn't be here. She couldn't afford to be here. 

  
She wanted out.

Out.

She had to get out.

But how?

Why was she here?

**_Where_ ** was here?

Where was this never-ending abyss of a hellhole?

  
" _Don't even say hello? How insulting!!_ "

  
Fear ate away her logic, her rational thinking, any thinking at all. The drowning feeling was overwhelming her.

  
Terror disintegrated her senses. Her breath quickened and she nearly choked, lungs spasming as they struggled to pass oxygen through her body, heart straining to pump blood and keep her alive. Tears burned her eyes, cascading down her cheeks like raindrops, and coating her tongue with a salty aftertaste.

  
Why was this happening to her? 

What did she do wrong? 

  
  


" _It's time I send you on your way, insolent fool. For the toll, you paid, however, it's just a one-way ticket._ "

  
  


Toll? 

What toll? 

What did that mean? 

She couldn’t remember.

But it was important, right?

It had to be… or else… or else she wouldn’t be here…

Right?

  
  


“ _Don’t get into too much trouble! It would be oh so bothersome if you were to die!_ ”

  
  


Something opened behind her – a giant set of stone doors inscribed with symbols and words she couldn’t make out– it let out gusts of wind and the sensation of disaster. It wafted the scent of catastrophe, making her blood slow and run cold. It seemed to be an endless void with a massive empty eye staring back at her. That damned eye that pierced her soul and made her feel so insignificant; so small. The wind whipped her hair around her face and made her skin sting.

  
Pulling.   
  
Rory was being pulled at. Grabbing at her clothes, her hair, her face, her automail.

  
It was black, tiny hands.   
  
They were pulling her in.   
  
Where?   
  
Why?   
  
She didn't want to go – she didn't want to die.   
  
She tried to run but it was futile. She struggled – kicked – thrashed – screamed – begged – cried – but the hands were relentless and she was powerless. 

They were pulling her in and Rory knew; just knew. Wherever they were taking her, wherever this was, it was not good and that she was going to die. 

Blackness surrounded her vision, taking over the white nothingness into something much darker and much worse. She knew that this was the end for her and –  
  


  
" _Have a fun trip, Little Miss Al-che-mist._ "


	2. Questions and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory wakes up and any answer she gets only leads to more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place sometime after Skin Game and slight AU in that Karrin and Harry don't pursue any sort of relationship.

When Rory came to, it was cold, wet, and she was laying on what felt like hard concrete.

It was raining.

Rain?

Why was it raining?

What happened?

Where was she?

Slowly… ever so slowly… her eyes peeled open.

Rain fell from the sky in fat drops and dripped across her face, running down her cheeks and temples almost like tears.

Then all at once, she found her ability to breathe again. With a great gasp, she shot up and inhaled heavily. Her automail ached with the rainfall and her stomach heaved. Abruptly she leaned over and threw up bile and whatever she had eaten previously, onto the concrete next to her. 

After she finished emptying the contents of her stomach, she realized two things. One; she was in an alley, a crummy garbage infested alleyway that had mice scuttling across the ground. And two; she was completely naked.

Immediately, she attempted to cover herself to preserve some sort of modesty or dignity and tried to recall just how she got to… wherever she was.

A glance around revealed tall buildings stretching up to a murky, cloudy sky. A glance to her right showed a brick wall curving around to another part of the alleyway. A glance to the left exposed what looked like an empty street.

How long had she been out in this alley? 

More importantly?

How did she get here?

A white-hot bolt of pain shot through her forehead and she clutched at her temples with her metal fingers. And then she remembered.

_ White… _

_ The massive set of doors… _

_ Those hands… _

_ The pulling... _

_ Then blackness… _

A car screamed past and she jumped, snapping out of her thoughts. Eyes shooting up, they lit on a neon-colored sign that flashed. It read the name of a bar but something was wrong. Why was it lit up bright blue? 

Rory managed to push herself up on shaky feet, her nose nearly numb and body shivering as she did so... Her hands made a ‘tap-tapping’ noise as metal clicked against the brick as she used the wall as a crutch in search of some clothes. Stumbling down the alley and onto the street, her stomach sank as she saw everything around her. Neon lights, futuristic vehicles, nearly deafening noise; everything was strange, different, not at all like home.

Her head spun as she tripped on something and went tumbling to the ground. Her body landed in a heap of trash and a ragged pile of cloth. Whiskey brown eyes burned and her nose stung as she took in the scent of beer and smoke and garbage. The rough fabric of a coat scratched at her cheeks and she scrambled to get the dirty article of clothing on to protect herself from the cold. It hung past her thighs and scratched her exposed skin. Grimy gloves were in the pockets of the coat and she slid them on, effectively hiding her automail fingers from anyone who looked close enough at her. Smell and stench be damned, she’d rather smell like a dumpster than be nude in the rain. Perhaps there was more hidden underneath the garbage, people always did throw away perfectly good clothing and belongings. What was the saying again? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure?

As she dug her way through the trash, intent on finding something else she pulled out a familiar-looking notebook.  _ Her notebook _ . With shaking hands, she hurriedly ripped it open, clumsy fingers rifling through the pages and almost crying out of sheer relief at seeing her research, still carefully encoded but the only familiar thing she recognized. She faintly picked up on the sound of ripping a few seams of the coat as she stuffed her notebook into the pocket of her coat.

Her bare feet stumbled as she pushed herself up and shakily moved towards the opening of the alley and onto the street. It was pitch black, the stars and moon being hidden by the heavy rain clouds as she slowly made her way down the street. Her patchwork coat was laden with rain and her hair hung heavy in her face. 

She had to find a way to get out of the rain, she needed shelter. Street lights illuminated the streets, open stores helping give her some sense of direction. A nearby sign caught her attention.

“ **_WELCOME TO CHICAGO, ILLINOIS_ ** ”

Chicago, Illinois?

Where was that?

Also, where was she?

Another pang of white-hot pain and a voice sounded in her head.

" _ It's time I send you on your way, insolent fool. For the toll, you paid, however, it's just a one-way ticket. _ "

Right...

One way ticket…

Toll...

What did that mean?

Just where did that thing send her? And what was the price?

Her automail arms ached, borderline burned in their sockets. Her stomach turned and twisted and threatened to make her throw up again. A few stragglers passed her by but they paid her no mind, to them, she was but another drunkard stumbling the streets.

Minutes seemed like hours as Rory searched for anything familiar. The air felt thick on her tongue and as the night grew darker, she found herself shivering despite the coat. The cold numbed her feet, her toes, her ears. Hunching her neck, she tried to keep her eyes open for some sort of shelter. That is until she heard a deep growling down a nearby alleyway. Her body froze, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

A large beast stalked slowly from the shadows. It had glowing red eyes and sharp teeth that set Rory’s senses on edge. The beast itself looked like a mix of a lion and some sort of reptile. The front half was a lion, the back half being that of a large reptilian-like creature. 

A chimera, she realized. 

Someone had made a chimera. 

It’s fangs dripping saliva onto the darkened concrete. Its mane was matted against the rain and it’s back hind legs dug into the ground as if it were melted butter.

The beast let out a terrible roar and suddenly it was charging her. Her bare feet nearly slipped on the slick cement as she started sprinting. The sound of her heavy breathing was all she could hear over the sound of the rain. Her automail ports ached and she felt the metallic taste of blood rise in the back of her throat. But that was all pushed to the back of her mind when the creature lunged.

Claws dug into her lower back and she went down with a scream as blackness nearly took over her vision. White-hot pain shot through her back like a gunshot, the sounds of her crashing to the ground sounding far away. The chimera had been knocked free with the power of its lunge and tumbled into the street where it recovered in seconds and made to pounce again.

Rory managed to roll onto her back and barely out of the way of the chimera as it crashed into the building next to her. Debris cut into her cheeks and neck, blood from her wound coating her gloved fingers.

Blood.

Something she could draw with.

Her fingers were shaking and unsteady as she hurriedly smeared her hands in the blood and went to work. The chimera was still working its way out of the rubble when it turned its glowing red eyes on her. A snarl left its maw as it readied itself to pounce. Her breathing was staggered as she prepared to fight back.

However, at the beginning of the creature’s leap, there was a high pitched “ _ beep beep! _ ” and a small vehicle crashed into the chimera, knocking it aside. The car slid to a stop with a screech of burning rubber and the driver side door flew open as soon as the car stopped.

A man in a large and heavy leather duster stepped out. He was tall, easily towering over her shorter frame, and held an equally large wooden staff in his hand. The staff smoldered with symbols she didn’t recognize and smoke wisped from the top.

“Let’s take it nice and easy now why don’t we? No reason to attack a defenseless lady.” The man called, the creature let out a ground-shaking howl instead and charged, its claws leaving deep trenches in the ground. But it did not attack the man, instead, it charged towards Rory.

The sound of rain roaring in her ears drowned out everything else as her eyes zeroed in on the beast. She vaguely heard the man shout something in a language she didn’t recognize but that didn’t matter as the creature closed in. Her breath caught in her throat as she pressed her hands to the hastily drawn transmutation circle on the ground beside her and prayed to whoever was listening above. 

The ground crackled with blue electricity and a spike erupted from the ground, impaling the creature at the peak of its attack. More blood splashed onto her face and Rory collapsed back onto the ground, chest heaving and lightheaded. The rain dripped on her face, washing the blood off from the creature and only serving to make her colder.

The man stared in what seemed like shock but it was quickly wiped away as he approached her side carefully, kneeling next to her and setting his staff on the ground.

“You okay miss?” He asked almost warily, Rory couldn’t blame him,

“Y-yes... I’m fine… I have- I have to go…” Her whole body shook as she managed to get her feet underneath her and after several tries, she managed to stand. 

The man immediately placed his hands on her shoulders and attempted to help her back down to the ground,

“Woah Woah Woah, I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am. You could be injured.” His voice was muffled as if someone stuffed cotton in her ears but she tried once again to wave him away.

“I’m fine- I need- I need to go…” Abruptly, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed.

…………………….

Rory’s memory was a blur of movement, moments, and pain. A combination of the cold, exhaustion, confusion, and blood loss kept her in a near delirious state. She vaguely remembered being picked up and moved somewhere, the faint rocking of a car moving, then darkness.

When she awoke, it was to a blank ceiling. Slowly sitting up, she winced at the feeling of bandages and stitches in her lower back; they couldn’t have been more than a few hours old. There were bandages wrapped around her head as well, her temples pounding with an oncoming headache; most likely from a concussion. 

The room she was in was a decent size, not enormous but not cramped. The bed was large and covered in thick quilts and comforters, smelling almost like a dog had slept on the bed. The walls were covered in posters she didn’t recognize with a large bookshelf against one wall. 

Just where was she?

Her automail creaked slightly as she pushed herself into a sitting position, immediately realizing that she was no longer dressed in the scummy coat she had found. Instead, she was dressed in what looked like short-sleeved green medical scrubs. Her automail gleamed in the dim lighting, her feet bare as she swung them out from under the covers and onto the floor. It felt as if a train had run over her head, her forehead was pounding, her ears ringing and her vision temporarily going white. Something was missing… What was it? She couldn’t remember...

Somewhere in her mind, she registered the door opening as she sat on the edge of the bed. There was a gasp and then the feeling of someone touching her shoulder. 

Immediately, Rory’s left hand clamped around the stranger’s wrist as she attempted to move away. A shocked inhale was heard as she squeezed harder. Agony lit her body on fire and she let go out of the sheer pain that wracked her body.

“I need you to lay down, your stitches are still fresh and they might tear.” A woman’s voice, not at all worried about the potentially broken wrist Rory might have caused. Sweat beaded her forehead as she was gently pushed back into the pillows. Opening her eyes, she saw the woman who had spoken.

She was pretty, with red hair and a tall slender figure. Her face was lean but kind, a worrying purse in her lips. Her hands were held up in a placating gesture, no visible wound on her wrist where Rory had grabbed her.

“My name is Andi, a friend of mine brought you here to my apartment. My boyfriend stitched up your wounds.” The woman explained, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Where are they now? Your friend and boyfriend I mean.” Rory asked, taking the glass of water Andi helped her hold gratefully and nearly downed it in one go. Her throat was parched, her lungs gasping as she shakily set the glass on the bedside table.

“They’re out cleaning up the rest of the monster that attacked you. You made quite the mess. They’ll be happy to answer any of your questions when they get back. Now, how about I get you something to eat?”

It was nearly an hour before Andi’s friends returned home. The redhead had given Rory a cardigan to wear over the hospital scrubs and had helped prop her up with pillows in what turned out to be the master bedroom. As Andi prepared something in the kitchen, Rory allowed herself to look around the room and take in the rest of her surroundings.

A bleached human skull carved with runes sat on one of the shelves of the bookcase; an interesting decoration choice… to say the least... But Andi didn’t seem too concerned so Rory didn’t mention it. Soon, the woman came back in the room with a tray that had a mug of tea and a plate of toast and crackers that clinked together as Andi set it up in Rory’s lap.

The front door opened, drawing Rory from her nearly finished meal. Andi was in the process of making more tea, claiming her friends would want some, given it was cold outside. There was the sound of voices, the soft voice of Andi explaining that Rory was awake to whoever had entered the room. There was some more muffled speaking which Rory only caught snippets of.

“ _ Blue light. _ ”

“ _ Symbols _ .”

“ _ Minor demon _ .”

Demon? Rory frowned, swallowing her last bite of toast and carefully setting the tray aside as she heard footsteps headed towards the bedroom.

Three people. One was Andi. The other two were men, the height difference between the two was almost comical. The shorter of the two men had wild black hair and dark eyes hidden behind glasses. He was dressed in trousers and a button-down shirt, a thick coat worn over top. 

The taller of the two men was the man Rory had seen before she passed out. He was tall, at least six foot nine or ten if she had to wager a guess. His hair was messy and dark brown, his eyes a similar color, and looking all too skeptical. Several things stood out as she looked at him, one was the glove on his left hand and the silver pentagram necklace around his throat, the other was the large wooden staff carved in symbols she didn’t quite recognize.

“Well take a seat why don’t you? No need to stand around scaring the poor woman.” Andi commented, bringing in several folding chairs for everyone else to sit on. The shorter man took a chair and set it up, taking a seat in front of Rory and holding out a hand.

“My name is Waldo Butters, how are you feeling?” His smile was kind, if not a bit skittish.

“Rory Blackburn... and I’ve certainly been better… I’m assuming you’re the one who stitched me up?” She replied and shook his hand slowly. Waldo nodded, his smile getting a touch more genuine,

“I am. According to Andi, they’re healing just fine. And I think there should be minimal scarring considering everything that you went through.”

The taller man; the one Rory assumed was named Harry, finally took a seat, setting his large staff against the couch next to him. Leaning forward, Rory’s attention was drawn to the glove on his hand, the skin peeking from the material showing some sort of burns. However, her attention was drawn back to his face as he spoke.

“Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions about what happened?” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was scared to be too intimidating. His hair was tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it. His eyes were a deeper brown than his hair, though she kept her eyes from meeting his; something told her it was a bad idea. With a moment's hesitation and a deep breath, she nodded.

“Can you tell us exactly what you saw out there? Do you remember what happened?” Rory frowned, taking a slow breath as she tried to recall what exactly happened.

_ Rain. _

_ The alleyway. _

_ Roaring. _

_ Blood. _

_ The doors. _

_ Those hands... _

_ Grabbing... _

_ Pulling _

_ Then nothing. _

A sharp pain stabbed through her temples and behind her eyes, causing her to flinch, the cup of tea in her hands cracking under the pressure before she hastily set it down on the table beside her. Her metal fingers felt cold against her face as she tried to sort through the pain and the conflicting memories. The bed began to swim in and out of focus, all noises beginning to sound muffled.

“I-” Her mouth felt full of cotton as she tried to string together words, trying to focus on anything but the pain behind her eyes. It hurt as if someone was shoving flaming stakes into her pupils. 

There was the sound of muffled voices, something that sounded like someone “ _ magical interference? _ ” and then a hand on her shoulder. With a flinch, she glanced up and saw Andi looking at her with a concerned expression on her face, a worrying furrow in her brows. Her mouth was moving, but Rory couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand the words coming out of the woman’s mouth. With a shake of her head, Rory pushed the pain to the back of her mind and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. The cool metal lessened the pain somewhat, enough that Rory could actually speak.

“I remember- waking up in an alleyway… I didn’t know where I was so I tried to walk out onto the street… To- to get my bearings. After- I don’t know how long- minutes? Hours? That- that chimera attacked me. That’s when Harry showed up...”

“Chimera?” She was cut off before she could say any more by Waldo, him leaning forward with a curious expression on his face. Frowning, she gave a hesitant nod; 

“Yes.. a creature made up of two or more genetically different creatures fused by mutation or fusion… ” Her voice was little more than a whisper. Did they not know what a chimera was? Most Amestrian’s had at least heard of the term, what with the country being a major alchemical superpower. 

“I’m sorry to say but that wasn’t a chimera or whatever you want to call it. It was a minor demon, I don’t know why it was after you.” Harry cut in, firmly but gently. He spoke to her as if he was scared she’d collapse, she wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She was so tired… But the fact that she didn’t quite know where she was, kept her awake.

“A demon? You mean like… a spirit? Like those stories parents use to scare their children into behaving?” Her head hurt, but the idea of demons was so outlandish to her, they were fables, ramblings of deranged priests and pastors.

“Ok I don’t know what kind of stories your parents are telling you but that’s a little messed up. But yes. A demon is a hostile spirit, sort of like you said. But they are under the control of a wizard or warlock, usually the latter-”

“Hold up, you want me to believe that the chimera that attacked me was a demon?” Rory snapped, turning her burning eyes to look at Harry Dresden. He had set his staff aside and had his fingers interlocked in his lap, leaning forward as he explained these outrageous ideas as if it were as plain as the color of the sky.

“Not a chimera, a demon. And yes. You probably pissed off some warlock on accident and they wanted you out of the picture.”

“That- no- that’s not- that was- Where in the hell am I?” Her sputtering was cut off by the question burning at the forefront of her mind. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head as if confused.

“Chicago, Illinois. Where do you think you’re from Ms. Blackburn?” Rory’s mind screeched to a halt, she remembered the sign… 

“Welcome to Chicago, Illinois.” She whispered and looked back at the taller man,

“Where is Amestris?” At this, all the other occupants in the room looked at each other before Waldo answered her question and sent a chill to the pit of her stomach.

“If you don't mind me asking. What is Amestris?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
